Someone like you
by Lafele29
Summary: Sherlock/John. Post-Fall. Based on Adele Someone like you. Subtle


I heard that you're settled down  
>That you found a girl<br>And you're married now

I heard that your dreams came true  
>I guess she gave you things<br>I didn't give to you

Old friend, why are you so shy?  
>It ain't like you to hold back or hide from the lie.<p>

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,  
>But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,<br>I had hoped you'd see my face,  
>And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,<p>

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,  
>I wish nothing but the best for you, too,<br>Don't forget me, I beg,  
>I remember you said,<br>"Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead,"<br>Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah,<p>

You know how the time flies,  
>Only yesterday was the time of our lives,<br>We were born and raised in a summer haze,  
>Bound by the surprise of our glory days,<p>

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,  
>But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,<br>I had hoped you'd see my face,  
>And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,<p>

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,  
>I wish nothing but the best for you, too,<br>Don't forget me, I beg,  
>I remember you said,<br>"Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead,"<p>

Nothing compares,  
>No worries or cares,<br>Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,  
>Who would have known how bitter-sweet this would taste?<p>

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,  
>I wish nothing but the best for you,<br>Don't forget me, I beg,  
>I remember you said,<br>"Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead,"<p>

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,  
>I wish nothing but the best for you, too,<br>Don't forget me, I beg,  
>I remember you said,<br>"Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead,"<br>Sometimes it lasts in love,  
>But sometimes it hurts instead.<p>

He sat on the sofa, a cup of tea intertwined in his fingers. He had tired not to notice the new gold ring on John's left ring finger. Or the smell of Sarah in _their_ flat, her clothes in the washing pile instead of his, still two sets of plates for washing up, but his stomach was empty as hers was full.

He noticed the doctor awards near the fireplace, the news article sitting proudly on the coffee table.

_A new family practice opened up in Baker Street._

He took at breath and slowly looked at John, but John didn't meet his gaze. He was controlling his breathing, Sherlock could tell, breathing in for one beat, breathing out for two. His eyes were looking at the floor, his eyes barely blinked.

When he had opened the door to _their _old flat, he had gasped, his knuckles had tightened before relaxing, the breath escaping him before he had inhaled heavily. His jaw had tightened, a flare of anger rushing through him, before he had pulled back to door and walked back up into the flat, leaving Sherlock to close the door behind him on his way up, like a million times before. They easily fell in step as Sherlock followed John up into the main part of the flat.

Seated, his gaze had fallen on the mantle piece as John mad coffee. There was a picture of him and John, Sherlock obviously making some witty remark that had left John with a bemused smile on his lips as he gazed up at Sherlock. He only looked away when John handed him some tea. Perfect, like always. He nodded thanks, then resumed searching for the changes. There was traces of Sarah everywhere. As for traces of Sherlock, apart from the photo, there was Sherlock's knife still stuck in the mantelpiece and bottom self of their bookcase was filled with Sherlock's old case notes, his deductions scrawled over hundreds of police reports.

John himself looked healthy, no tired circles under his eyes like he had grown used too. His hair was washed from this morning, and his shirt was only a week old, picked out by Sarah, easy to see it wasn't chosen by John. His body wasn't as fit as it had been, now settled into a married life, no more running around the streets with Sherlock by his side.

Finally John drew a breath and met Sherlock's eyes. There was no blame there, no anger. Nor any love or relief. Just acceptance. The message was clear.

_I've moved on. You are meant to be dead._

He nodded and dropped his gaze, his eyes misting over.

_No, he couldn't let John see this. The man had moved on and was telling Sherlock this. He wanted to be a good husband, a good father one day, and Sherlock didn't fit in to that life. _

Sherlock stood up, then rocked back and forth on his heels whilst John remaining sitting. His heart stopped. Then restarted as he took one stride to stand in front of John. He placed his hand under the ex soldier(s chin and lifted it. He didn't met the man's eyes, just pressed his lips to his. Warm against his cold stiff ones, lips that would know love for the rest of his days, whilst Sherlock's would only know insults and logic.

The pressure of John's lips left his and he gently drew back, looked at John one last time, allowing himself a small smile. John blinked slowly, his eyes brighter and a small apologetic smile on his own lips. That was all Sherlock needed.

He turned and left the flat, leaving John still sitting in his armchair, looking down at the tea in his hands, the sad smile still there, now reflected in his eyes, accepting the fact he had just let his old life truly slip away from him. That never again would he run around the streets of London, even though Sherlock was alive and able.

Sherlock closed the door behind him, breathing in and leaning back against it, his cheek against the gold numbers. He looked up at the window above him, one last time to be certain, but the curtain had not twitched. Slowly he took the two strides forward to the curb and held out his hand like he had grown used to in his two years with John at his side. He opened to the door to the cab that pulled up and slammed closed the door on 221 B for the last time.

He and John hadn't spoken a word all the time he had been there, yet it felt like they had just had their final conversation. He was deafened by all they had not said.

He never saw the curtain twitch as the taxi pulled away.


End file.
